"Let go of me!"
She demanded, struggling to break free from the strong arms that held her, dragging her against her will.
"I said, let go!"
She screamed louder, but it didn't change a thing. She had been caught trying to break into the safe of one of the most prominent and wealthiest Duke in the country. She had been undercover for about two weeks, working as one of the maids in the grand estate of Mr. Henderson Wells, the Duke of Eston-Bridge. Her goal was to steal his generational family heirloom. After reading about it in newspapers for months and planning her infiltration, she got caught. She had never been caught before, not until now.
"Where are you taking me?" She yelled.
"To the Duke of course! – you're in trouble now, you common thief!" one of the men said, pulling her forward.
Her heart was beating profusely; she didn't know what to expect, wondering what awaited her. Was she going to prison? Would he kill her? Her mind raced as they came to a halt at a huge door and knocked.
"What?" A stern, unkind voice came from within.
"Sir, your Grace, we're sorry to disturb you, but we caught a thief.
"So? That won't be a first. You already know what to do – call the police. I'm busy," he said dismissively.
"Well...sir, this one actually broke into your family heirloom safe room."
After what seemed like a minute or two, The Duke spoke, "Let her in. You two can go about your duties."
There was a long, dragged silence from inside. The men exchanged looks, and one of them carefully and cautiously called out.
"Your Grace?"
"Did I stutter?" he roared from inside, irritated. As if afraid, they quickly apologized loudly, opening the doors slightly and throwing her into the dark-looking room.
"No! Wait!" She quickly stood to her feet, banging on the door, trying to pry it open, but it was locked shut from the outside. Her heart was pounding. The room was dimly lit, and she didn't see anyone in sight. She seized the opportunity, spotting a window and frantically trying to pry it open as she gathered her skirts in her hand, preparing to make a jump if she preyed it open.
"You're truly a lousy thief"
A quiet, angry voice sliced through the silence, completely catching her off guard. She froze, taken aback, and spun around. A pair of icy blue eyes stared at her, burning with intensity and anger from a dark corner. She swallowed hard, paralyzed; it felt like she was trapped in a lion's den, about to be torn to bits.
He looked unusually calm, as if this was a scene he was used to. This was the first time she was physically seeing the well-known and ruthless, mysterious Mr. Henderson, the Duke of Eston-Bridge. Never taking his eyes off her, he reached for a bottle of whiskey on a nearby table, pouring the amber-gold liquid into a glass.
"You're a bold one, I'll give you that," his tone laced with anger and a hint of amusement. His eyes remained on her as he quickly downed the liquid in his glass. "What were you trying to do?" He gestured to the window.
"What does it look like?" Amber said in a 'matter-of-fact' tone, trying to conceal her fear.
"You're not going to survive the fall," his gaze dropped to the window. "In fact, you're not going anywhere at all." His voice was deep with a hint of menace.
He strode towards her, and she stepped back.
"Stealing from me? Did you think you were going to get away with it?" He stepped closer to Amber, narrowing his eyes. She knew she was doomed. Never had she encountered such problems; it was always too easy for her.
"I'm impressed, I have to be honest. You're either very brave or very stupid, so which is it?" He asked, his face dark, jaw tightened.
Amber was scared he was going to lunge towards her and strangle her; she had to buy time, think of a way out. He was blocking her only route of escape.
"Maybe I'm both," she replied, trying to sound calm.
"Who sent you? How did you breach my security?" he asked in an intimidating, firm voice that made the hair on her neck and arms stand.
"That's none of your concern, really," Amber responded nonchalantly, still trying to figure out what to do as her heart raced wildly.
Amber's words seemed to touch a nerve; he blinked, taken aback by her response, and his face darkened with murderous intent.
"You're in my house, trying to steal from me. I would say that makes it very much my business," he said, his voice firm but controlled.
"You're playing with fire, and you're going to get burned," he warned, taking another step towards her, loosening the tie around his cravat.